Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I worked myself furiously, but it wasn’t enough. I needed something inside me. I shoved the shower door open, letting it bang against the wall and stomped into my room, ignoring the water that was pouring off me. I yanked open a drawer and rummaged around until I found one of my favorite toys, a thick dildo with a suction cup on the end.
I hurried back to the bathroom, letting out a string of curses when I hit one of my wet footprints and slipped.
I grabbed some lube from a bathroom drawer and stepped back into the warmth of the shower. No doubt Lucien was home by now, probably furious I wasn’t waiting for him, ready to report on the night’s events. That just made me want to draw my jerk-off session out more.
I secured the dildo to the shower wall at the perfect height, squirted lube into my hand, and caressed the thick length, imagining it was Joe’s cock, which was just as fat and way more delicious than the bright blue silicone.
10
Joe
I tried to tell myself Devil had only been at Santino’s because he was curious. But there were rumors the Santinos were under the Marchesis’ thumb. Not only that, there’d been a series of small fires, robberies, and vandalism in the area. Every single business that had been hit had an alleged connection to Devil’s family. I wasn’t sure if that meant an enemy was coming after them or if this was their way of making it clear they expected more from the people under their protection. Whatever was happening, I was almost certain Devil was involved somehow. If he or his cousins were the perpetrators, I would bring them in. They’d get no mercy from me, even if Devil still starred in my fantasies every fucking night.
There were only a few witnesses willing to talk with the police about the fire at Santino’s, and the descriptions they gave of suspicious men they’d seen didn’t match. One woman said she’d seen men breaking into Art’s Bakery, but there’d been no police report from Cameron Bellini, the new owner. Possibly she’d seen someone using the back entrance and didn’t recognize them as a new employee. It was also possible Cameron hadn’t reported the break in because he’d gotten cozy with Angelo Marchesi. Since my run in with Devil, I’d been keeping tabs on him and his cousins, and Angelo had been seen spending a lot of time at Art’s.
The only concrete connection between the fire at Santino’s and the other vandalism in the area was the notes left behind at every scene. The notes had to mean something, but no matter how many times Lindsay and I went over them, we couldn’t figure out a damn thing. We’d asked our cryptographers to analyze them, but it wasn’t a high priority case, so who knew when they would get to it.
Along with a few witnesses, I’d talked to several members of the Santino family, but they hadn’t told me anything useful. Were they afraid of retribution from the Marchesis if they spoke up, or did they truly have no idea who’d want to burn down their shop? There was nothing else I could do until I had more information from the arson investigator.
By the time I got home that night, I was exhausted, angry, and horny. I’d known sooner or later I’d run into Devil again. I’d hoped when our paths crossed the things I’d learned about his past and the knowledge that he’d had Murphy killed as if it were nothing would take the edge off my desire for him.
None of that mattered. Nothing had changed. Well, that wasn’t true. I wanted him even more than I had before, but I no longer wanted to pretend I didn’t have any agency. I wanted to make him pay, to punish him for humiliating me. I wanted to use him until he was thoroughly spent and begging me to stop. I wanted to wring him dry and leave him feeling like he’d never recover. Because that was what he’d done to me.
Seeing him today had made me certain of that. I was never going to recover from my weakness the night I’d followed him from one bar to the next, longing for more of his bright presence, hoping for just one taste of that forbidden fruit, of a man who lived his life any fucking way he wanted to and destroyed anyone who got in his way. Devil never played it safe like I had for most of my life. Devil didn’t believe in rules or laws or the system.
Not that I believed in the system anymore. I’d seen too many assholes like Murphy get promoted ahead of me and too many murderers go free because they had money and power. I still believed in rules and human decency, though. That should mean I’d want nothing to do with a man like Devil, but God help me, if Devil had been hiding in my house when I’d gotten home—and I’d half expected him to be—I’d have been on him instantly, desperate to get inside him.